Wednesday, August 31, 2016

We’d buried our Comet in the Square
Hole, under rocks, bits of broken concrete and clumps of grass ripped from the
surrounding field. We pulled the wheels and Suzie pried off the silver Comet
emblem that had managed to survive all the damage we’d done. Billy added a
snowglobe to the grave, stashing the others into the sack he’d made from a coat
he’d found. Everything else went in the wagon so we could take it all back to
our fort. Then we just stood and looked at the mound, silently, as though
honoring a fallen comrade.

“I wonder if someone will dig that up
in a thousand years and ask why it was given a burial? Maybe they’ll think it
was some kind of primitive robot that we loved enough to bury in a grave.” I
had thought about saying something inspirational, something like what the last
person says at the end of those films we watch in school, but all I could think
of was how we might be pranking future archaeologists.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Oh, we’re so
stylish. GQ, get it? Cuz someone sure likes to unload their bladder on this
real estate. Gawd, this is getting old. What are our options, do we need to
move away from this yard? I’m sick as shit of pee. Really, I’m ready to move.

Fix this
general. The smell is like 100 times worse this time, as if there’s something
in it that is pestilential, almost as bad as lawn mower fuel. Ugh.

To: The
Queen

From: The
General

I agree, My
Liege, that the odor is horrifying. Unfortunately, the story gets worse and whatever
was in this last batch of urine has resulted in zombie ants. Allow me to
explain.

Following
the last assault, we collected dead workers and soldiers from throughout our
perimeter. Once the dead began to be consumed, behavioral changes in those
eating became almost immediately apparent and they became dangerously psychotic
within minutes. Singing, dancing and uncontrollable laughing soon gave way to
attacks on one another as well as colony members who had yet to eat. In no time
we had a bloody melee on our hands and were forced to kill colony members who
had eaten their drowned brethren. At that point, a moratorium was placed on all
fresh flesh and so, until we move, we’re a colony of vegetarians at risk of
zombie civil war.

In fact, our
perimeter is now littered with toxic corpses. The birds refuse to touch the
dead, leaving scavenging beetles to run amok after taking a few bites of our
fallen. Forward observers have reported that the beetles end up attacking other
beetles and, whoever is left after that death match, runs out into the rocks as
the sound of hideous beetle screams fade into the distance.

I am
thinking that those stones where beetles go to confront their psychic demons
could be where we’re safest. Yes, resources are scarcer, we’re more exposed,
it’s hotter and the ground is as hard as rock but I see no reason why our
pisser would wander out beyond the lawn.

To: General
Packer

From: Queen
Let’s Go

Start the
process, General. I’ve got my girls on getting new workers and soldiers for you
to help move the remaining unhatched workers and soldiers. I’m going to miss
this place, we were living fat until getting stomped on by a fucking baby. I
squeeze out a shit ton of babies and I fucking hate em’. They stink, they’re
noisy, and they do stupid shit like this, stomping on people’s homes and then
having someone drown them in pee. Trust me, if our colony found a way to plow
on without having to rely on making babies, I’d sign right up.